So I'm up before the crack of dawn, taking a quick shower with some sort of special anti-bacterial solution. I clippered the fur off of my belly as best I could, washed everything, and loaded up for the hospital. We made it there a whole 6 minutes late - nobody seemed to mind. They asked questions, I signed consent forms, again, and I put on one of those stupid hospital gowns. Personally, I would have been just as happy to wander around naked, but I guess its like a ritual or something. They started an IV into the back of my hand. Here's a hint; if you are a hairy person, use your clippers on your hands and arms. They taped the hell out of the fur on my left paw. I said goodbye to everybody, and they took me down the hall to preop prep. They asked more questions, I signed more forms, then they drugged me...alot. I remember scooting from the gurney to the operating table, being strapped down, and that was that.
I woke up with my mouth completely dry, sore all over, fuzzy brained, and in pain. My belly was distended, blown up like a balloon, with seven punctures covered with little bandages. "Wow, this part sucks." My long-suffering wife feeds me some ice chips, and I drift away for a while.
I wake up again, get some more ice chips, push the morphine button about a hundred times, get one dose of the stuff, drift away again. People wander in and out, family comes to visit, asking me how I feel..."Stabbed", I say, and they chuckle a little at my weak joke. I hit the morphine button, and drift away...
They want me to get up and walk around, go to the bathroom on my own, etc...getting out of bed hurts like hell, and it burns like crazy when I pee, all the drugs plus a catheter have irritated things down there. Getting back in bed ain't no picnic...drift away.
Hours wander by in no particular order. I'm starting to be more cognizant of my surroundings, even through the morphine haze...this part still sucks. I get some sleep, an hour at a time. Dawn, and things start to come to life a little. Nurses and other staff come in, check this, check that, whatever. This movie sucks, I wanna go home. "You did great, and everything is looking good! You will probably go home today." Probably? I might be stuck here another night? Not just "no" but "Hell no". Drift away....
Dr A comes in, tells me everything was fine, I had some adhesions along the mid-line of my belly, but everything is OK. No unusual tissues, no problems with my liver, no alien probes, all is well. "Great, yank this IV out of my hand, and let me go home, " I say. "Sorry", he says, "I can't stand the sight of blood". In a little while they are getting me ready to ship out. I take the ritual ride in a wheelchair to the wrong exit, and we wait there for my Darling Bride to come get me. Driving home was a ton of fun, with every pot hole on the coast eager to jolt the shit outta me. Finally make it home, pain pills and ice chips, and sleep. The deed is done, now I can get started on the rest of my life...Darling Bride just brought me dinner - half a cup of chicken broth, yum!
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